


The Dangers of (Alien) Pet-Sitting

by Ilya_Boltagon



Category: Captain Marvel (2019)
Genre: Flerken, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:45:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilya_Boltagon/pseuds/Ilya_Boltagon
Summary: Maria and Monica agree to look after Goose for a few days while Fury is away. Chaos (and unexpected arrivals) ensue. Spoilers for Captain Marvel.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DenseHumboldt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DenseHumboldt/gifts).



 

Monica was grinning as she got off the school bus, excited by the thought of Thanksgiving break. Waving to her friends as the bus drove off, she shrugged her backpack off and ran into her house, yelling a greeting to her mom as she went to her room to put her school books away, pleased she wouldn't have to look at them for a couple of weeks, except for doing the few homework assignments she'd gotten. Kicking her sneakers off, sending them flying under her bed, she mused about what else she could do. She knew that Grandma and Papaw would invite her and Mom for Thanksgiving dinner, like always, but that wasn't til next week. She bit her lip, her heart thudding, as the old, faint hope of Auntie Carol coming back for another visit bubbled up. She probably wouldn't- Mom said Auntie Carol was busy helping Talos and the other Skrulls find a new home, and Auntie Carol called sometimes on the weird glass-like thing she'd given Mom, so they could see her, talk to her and know she was safe, but she hadn't been back to Earth since she gave them the glass-phone thing. Monica sighed, flopping down on her orange bedspread. She knew space was a big place, and Auntie Carol's mission was important, but she couldn't help but wish she could visit more often. Monica missed her. Pouting, she twisted so she was lying on her back.

“Meow!”

Monica yelped in surprise, leaping back to her feet and whirling round. Goose, the alien cat that belonged to Auntie Carol _and_  Uncle Nick, was lying stretched out on her bed, and Monica had nearly lain on top of her.

A smile spread over Monica's face, and she sat down, petting Goose's head. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“Mrow.” Goose purred as Monica scratched her head.

“Is Uncle Nick here?” Monica hadn't seen a car, but that didn't mean he wasn't here. “Or did you come to visit us on your own?” Goose had done that once before, showing up right before Auntie Carol's last visit, though nobody knew how she'd gotten to Louisiana from Washington DC.

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Monica?”

“In my room, Mom!”

Mom was smiling as she stopped in the doorway. “Hey, baby. How was school?”

“It was OK. Mom, look, Goose came to visit again!”

“I know. Uncle Nick has to go away for a couple days, and he asked us to watch her. Figured she'd be safer here than with his work buddies. He promised she'll behave.”

“Cool!” Monica gave Goose a tight hug, wondering how exactly a cat, even an alien one, could misbehave, or why Mom stepped closer, looking worried as Goose was wrapped in her hug. Goose only continued purring, and Mom backed off, sighing.

“Mm-hmm.” Mom gave Goose an evil eye. “First rule we need to get straight, Goose. No sittin' on the beds.”

Goose stood up, stretched, stared at Mom, then climbed into Monica's lap and curled up, purring.

Mom threw her hands up and walked away, muttering something about too-smart alien cats.

Monica stared after her for a second, confused, then shrugged. Adults were weird sometimes, she knew that. But this week of Thanksgiving break already sounded more fun. She grinned at Goose. “I'd better get my _boring_  homework done, then we can go play if you want.” Grabbing her backpack, she dug out her homework book, checking out the first assignment she had to do, then sighed. Math. Pulling a face, she grabbed the exercise book she needed, sprawled out on her bed, carefully avoiding Goose this time, and started working.

Goose made a sound kind of like a huff, then, without warning, a purple tendril _way_  too big to be her tongue, darted out of her mouth, grabbed the book from Monica's hands, and she swallowed it whole.

Monica stared, wide-eyed, as Goose just started grooming herself like nothing was wrong. OK, this wasn't nearly as freaky as the first time she'd seen the Skrulls. She could deal with this. Goose  _was_ an alien, after all. No reason to be scared when she did something weird.

But would Mom, or her teachers, believe that her cat really _had_  eaten her homework?

 


	2. Chapter 2

Monica yawned, rubbing her eyes, as she stumbled out of bed. The smell of bacon floated up from downstairs, which woke her up- kind of. Eyes still heavy from sleep, she walked the familiar route across the landing-

“Oof!” She tripped over- something- and heard an annoyed hiss as she got back to her feet. Goose. Right. She'd almost forgotten the cat was here. She looked down quickly, to make sure she hadn't hurt her, then froze.

Goose had, at some point in the night, made a 'bed' of her own in the hall. She was comfortably nestled in a heap of Mom's handmade patchwork quilt, inherited from Grandma. The fabric now sported several rips and holes, from Goose's claws, it was colorfully coated in ginger cat hair, and the cupboard where that quilt was normally kept hung wide open, empty. Goose was curled up in her 'nest', looking very smug and content. Monica stared. “How'd you even get that cupboard open?” She half whispered. That door always stuck, Monica herself could barely open it, so how had Goose managed?

“Monica? You up? Breakfast's nearly ready!” Mom's voice came from the bottom of the stairs.

 _No!_  If Mom saw this, she'd be mad, and probably say Goose would have to go stay with one of Uncle Nick's other friends! “Uh, be right there!” Monica called, hoping her unease didn't show in her voice. Darting over to Goose, she scooped her up, unhooking the quilt from where it had snagged on one of her claws. Clutching Goose with one arm, she used the other to try and shove the quilt back into the cupboard. She couldn't fold it back up, but it was torn up now anyway, and all that mattered was that Mom didn't see it and get mad at Goose. Goose was (mostly) just a cat, she didn't understand that what she'd done was wrong!

“You shouldn't have done that, Goose.” Monica tried to explain in a whisper, as she closed the cupboard with her foot. “That quilt's special, Grandma's mom made it, we're supposed to keep it safe.”

“Mrow.” Goose looked utterly unimpressed by her explanation, but at least the quilt was out of sight now, and hopefully Mom wouldn't find out until after Goose had gone home. Then Monica could just play dumb, like she had no idea how the quilt got shredded. Cradling Goose in both arms, she headed downstairs, hoping she didn't look guilty or anything.

Mom was already laying out breakfast at the table, smiling when Monica and Goose came in. “Morning, baby.”

“Hey, Mom. Uh, want me to feed Goose?”

“No, it's OK, I got it.” Mom gestured towards the full cat bowl near the back door, next to a dish of water. Monica set Goose down in front of her breakfast, before taking her own seat at the table and tucking into her bacon and eggs. “What're we doing today?”

“You mean apart from stopping by your teacher's place for another copy of the Math assignment you lost?”

“I didn't lose it, Goose ate it, I told you!”

Mom shook her head. “Trust me, Monica, I believe you. I'd believe anything of Goose." She looked at Goose out the corner of her eye, before turning back to Monica. " _But_  you've still gotta do your homework. So we'll need another copy.”

Monica sighed heavily. She had been kind of hoping not to have to do it, if she was honest, but Mom was right, she didn't want to get in trouble when she went back to school. “ _Fine_.”

Goose, who had been sniffing at the cat food, let out an offended-sounding whine. Monica stared. “What's up, Goose, you not hungry?” She turned back to Mom. “Where'd you get her food from? Maybe she doesn't like that kind.”

Mom was frowning. “It's what Uncle Nick gave me. He says she always eats it...”

“Mrow.” Goose abandoned her food bowl, sauntered over to the stove, tail waving jauntily, crouched, sprang onto the counter, then the same tentacle-tongue that Monica had seen last night emerged from Goose's mouth, reaching out and grabbing the frying pan with the leftover bacon, and swallowing it all- pan included. Satisfied, she hopped down, climbed onto Monica's lap, and began cleaning her whiskers.

Monica couldn't help but giggle, despite the fact that Goose just ate half their breakfast (and a kitchen utensil). “I guess she likes bacon better than cat food!”

“Mrrrow.” Goose purred, nuzzling Monica, her eyes looking big and innocent.

Mom put her head in her hands. “At least she's doing her alien thing in a less scary way than last time...”

“Huh? You've seen her tentacles before? How come you didn't tell me?” Monica scowled. “I thought she was just like a normal cat, but from another planet, til last night!” Monica thought all alien stuff was cool, how come Mom hadn't told her about Goose's trick?

“Monica, believe me, you don't wanna see what happens when she really gets going with those things.” Mom shuddered slightly, like she was remembering something nasty.

“Do so.” Monica pouted.

“ _No._ ” Mom's voice was stern now. “It'd terrify you, and I don't want you having nightmares. So you _won't_ be seeing that. Got it?”

Monica opened her mouth to argue- she wasn't a baby, she was nearly twelve!- but then realized Mom was actually looking at Goose, like she'd been warning _her_ , not Monica.

Goose huffed, then hopped from Monica's lap to the table, walking over to Mom, and nuzzling her head against her hand, purring like she was reassuring her.

Monica tilted her head to one side, thinking. “It's like she understands you, Mom... Goose, _do_  you understand what we're saying?”

“Mrow.” Goose gave her a look that could mean 'Duh.'

Monica decided to test it. “OK, um...” She deliberately dropped her napkin on the floor. “Can you please pick that up for me, Goose?”

Another huff, but Goose jumped to the floor, walked- slowly- over to the napkin, picked it up gingerly in her mouth, jumped onto Monica's lap again, dropped the napkin on the table, and purred as Monica petted her. “Thanks! You are so awesome, Goose. Wish we could keep you forever.” Monica looked up. “Mom-”

“No.”

“Aww. _Fine_. But keeping her would be so cool.”

Goose interrupted, by putting her forepaws on the edge of the table, 'standing' over Monica's plate. Multiple short tentacles appeared from her mouth, making Monica gasp, then all her remaining bacon and eggs were gone in seconds.

“Goose! That was mine!”

Goose huffed again, eyed Monica for a minute, then prodded the napkin with her paw. “Mrow.”

“Yeah, I know I asked for it, but I can't _eat_  that!”

Goose merely purred, then turned around, jumped down to the floor, sat down and started washing her paws.

Monica folded her arms, already plotting how to get Goose back for that- and _after_  she'd already helped cover up that Goose had wrecked the family quilt! Ungrateful cat. She glared at Goose, who sat, casually having a wash, purring as if she didn't have a care in the world.

Mom shook her head wordlessly, and slid her own plate over to Monica, a finger on her lips, like she didn't want Goose to hear or something. Monica's stomach growled, so she tucked in, but she felt bad taking Mom's breakfast. “What about you?”

“I'll grab something later, don't worry. And, maybe next time, don't tease the sentient alien cat, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Goose was a lot smarter- and meaner- than Monica had thought. But maybe she just didn't get that stealing food was wrong? Cats did help themselves to stuff, she knew- Grandma and Papaw's cat, Fluffy, often did. Not right off people's plates, but still.

She'd just have to teach Goose better manners before Uncle Nick came to take her home. How hard could it be?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The thing with the quilt is an embellished version of something my cat did when we first got him, years ago. It was funny, so I had to include it here. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

“Monica, have you seen Goose?” Mom came into the living room from the kitchen, frowning a bit.

Monica, on the sofa, engrossed in the latest episode of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, shook her head, only half paying attention. “No, why?”

Mom looked around worriedly. “First time I've fed her and she hasn't at least come running to see what I've given her.”

Monica shrugged. “Maybe she's outside?”

“God, I hope not. No idea how Tom's dogs would react, or what scent they'd pick up from her.”

Monica snapped to attention, tensing. “You don't think she's gotten hurt?”

Mom snorted. “No, baby. Trust me, no dog's gonna hurt Goose. She can look after herself. I'm more worried about the dogs, if she's gone exploring.” She sighed.

The TV show went to a commercial break, and Monica hopped to her feet. “I'll go see if she's in my room.” Goose had taken to sleeping there, curled on top of Monica's bed, though Mom didn't know that. Goose wasn't meant to be on the beds, so Monica had been spending _ages_  brushing all the shed cat hair off her duvet every morning, while Goose wound round her legs, purring appreciatively. Darting up the stairs, she checked her room. Goose didn't appear to be here though: not on the bed, under the bed, in the closet, or under the chest of drawers. Monica ran across the hall to Mom's room, checking the same places. No Goose. A quick scan of the bathroom proved she wasn't there either. Monica frowned. "Goose, where are you?" She hadn't _really_  thought Goose had gone outside, but maybe she had, and had gotten lost? Biting her lip, she figured she'd go down and ask Mom if she should look in the garage, when a tired 'Mrow' sound came from the guest room.

Monica went over there, frowning. This door was normally shut, as they almost never had guests staying over, but now it was open a crack. Was it big enough for Goose to have squeezed through? “Goose?”

“Mrow.” Again, Goose's 'reply' was quieter than usual, like she was tired. Monica pushed the door open, squinting in the dim light. The curtains were drawn, so it was hard to see. The first thing Monica noticed though, was the _smell_. It was... weird. Metallic and chemically, it made her nose sting, and she pulled a face, clamping a hand to her nose. “What _is_  that?” Her heart pounded. What if it was alien cat blood or something? “Goose, are you hurt?!” She threw on the light switch so she could get a better look inside the guest room.

Goose lay in the middle of the rug next to the bed, spread-eagled. Her fur was damp and matted, and she was breathing heavily. The rug itself, and the floor of what seemed like half the room, was coated in some clear sticky liquid. That was where the smell was coming from, but Monica didn't have time to try and figure out what it was, because surrounding Goose, and dotted all over the room, were piles and piles of oval-shaped, gel-like pink... _things_. Monica stared and stared. There had to be at least 100 of the strange things! The sharp smell was making her eyes water, so she took a step back, staring at Goose, who, though clearly exhausted, looked almost... smug. “Goose, what have you done? What's Mom going to say about this... stuff?”

“What stuff? God, what is that _smell_?”

Monica jumped- Mom must've come up the stairs behind her, and she hadn't even noticed. “I, um... I dunno, Mom, I just found...” She stepped away from the guest room, and gestured, showing Mom Goose, and her heaps of... whatever they were.

Mom pulled Monica back, looking worried, wrapping an arm round her shoulders. “What the...”

Goose made a satisfied 'Hmph' sound, and stretched out a paw, laying it on one of the pink gel-things, like she was caressing it. She purred loudly.

Monica stared at the pink thing, eyes narrowed, then she jumped, letting out a yelp, when it actually wobbled. “Mom, that thing just moved! I think they're alive...”

Mom dragged Monica further away. “Come downstairs, baby. I'm gonna call Uncle Nick, then see if I can get hold of Auntie Carol. Neither of us is going in there til I know what's going on.”

“But what if Goose needs help? Mom, she looked worn out.”

“If she needs us, she can come downstairs. We're not going near that stuff. Not until I get answers.” Mom clutched Monica's arm, leading her back to the living room, before going to call Uncle Nick.

Monica listened to their conversation for a few minutes, before slipping from the sofa and tip-toeing back upstairs. She wasn't gonna go and bug Goose, she reasoned. She was just checking that she was OK.

At the guest room door, she hesitated. Goose was sitting up now, washing herself. More of the pink-gel things were wobbling, quite violently now. Maybe she shouldn't go in there after all...

There was a wet ripping sound, and Monica whipped her head round toward the noise. A soft thump followed, and something very small, with matted wet fur, began squirming on the carpet.

“Mew.” It cried, in the littlest voice _ever_. Monica gaped as Goose got up and began gently washing it, showing it to be the same ginger color as her.

More wet rips and thumps began sounding, followed by a chorus of high-pitched 'Mews'.

Monica's eyes rounded, her mouth open in an 'O' of delight.  _Kittens!_ Then she was grinning, and ran downstairs to where Mom was still on the phone.

“-said looking after your damned alien menace for a few days would be easy, Nick! Now I've got some sort of rank bodily fluid and alien.... mess all over my guest room, and I don't know what-” Mom saw Monica and cut herself off. “Monica, what's up?”

Monica was nearly bouncing with glee. “Mom, the pink things are _eggs_! They just started hatching upstairs. Goose has babies!”

 


	4. Chapter 4

Another guttural roar echoed from upstairs, making the windows rattle. Monica, who'd been told in no uncertain terms to _stay down here_ , cringed at the noise. This was like the third time she'd heard Goose roar, or whatever she was doing. Uncle Nick had arrived late last night, and today, he and Mom were trying to move Goose and her kittens out of the guest room, so the gooey mess from the eggs hatching could be cleaned up. Goose, however, didn't seem to want her or her family to be moved. Mom and Uncle Nick's voices carried down the stairs, but too faint for Monica to make out what they were saying, beyond the odd word. She heard 'expert' and 'Carol', and her eyes widened. Would Auntie Carol come visit, to help take care of all the new kittens?

“Mew.” A tiny sound, muffled, came from behind the sofa. Monica stood up, startled. That sounded like one of the kittens! But they were all upstairs with Goose, weren't they? And they weren't even a day old. No way should they be able to walk, let alone get downstairs. Tip-toeing, she crept towards the noise, to see a kitten walking clumsily, sniffing at the back of the sofa. It was so cute! Monica nearly squealed when its little face wrinkled and it sneezed. “How'd you get down here?” She spoke in a whisper, in case her voice scared it.

It looked up at her, then walked towards her, its legs wobbly, tripping over its own paws. Monica crouched and scooped it up, gently, cuddling it. It snuggled into her, purring. “You shouldn't be down here, you're too small to be away from your mommy.”

“Mew.” It licked her hand, still purring like a tiny motor.

“I guess I have to take you back to your mom, and brothers and sisters.” Though how she'd do that, if Goose didn't want anyone going into the guest room, Monica didn't know. She chewed on her lip as she went upstairs. Maybe she could just put the kitten in the doorway, and Goose could come get it? If Mom and Uncle Nick let her, of course. (Plus, Monica wasn't sure she wanted to hear Goose roaring at _her_.)

Halfway up the stairs, the kitten began squirming. Monica froze. Was she holding it too tight? It twisted, peering through its barely-open eyes at a framed photo on the wall, of her and Mom, last summer vacation. The kitten gave the photo a few sniffs, for some reason, then it yawned, and miniature versions of Goose's tentacles emerged from its mouth, stretching to the picture frame and feeling along it, nearly knocking it off the hook.

“No. Bad kitten!” Monica stepped back, hoping that she could move far enough away that the little tentacles couldn't reach the photo any more. But the sudden movement only knocked the photo further, and it fell onto the stairs with a crash. Monica winced as Mom and Uncle Nick came running.

The footsteps must have startled the kitten, because it let out its loudest 'Mew!' yet, and its tentacles sprang out, brushing at Monica's arms. She was startled, and reflexively let go- and the tentacles wrapped round her wrists, so the kitten hung onto her like it was bungee-jumping. It tickled a bit, and the tentacles were kind of sticky, but she didn't mind. This was probably how alien kittens played. She knelt, trying to support its body before it hurt itself. And of course, that was the first thing Mom and Uncle Nick saw. Her, kneeling down, holding the kitten, tentacles encasing her arms.

Mom nearly screamed.

“Rawwwr!” Goose seemed to have materialized from nowhere, suddenly standing between Monica, and the adults. She was watching Monica, who gulped. “I didn't hurt him, I p-promise.” She'd never thought of Goose as scary before, but if Goose thought Monica had hurt her baby, who knew what she'd do? “I was just bringing him back to you, after I found him downstairs.” She decided not to mention the kitten trying to eat a photo frame.

“Monica-” Mom's voice was tense, and she looked ready to jump over Goose and grab Monica. Uncle Nick put a hand on her arm, holding her still.

Goose took a few steps toward Monica, took the scruff of the kitten's neck gently in her mouth, and shook it a little. The tentacles gripping Monica's arms relaxed, and she giggled as they 'licked' her before letting go.

She thought Goose would take the baby back to the guest room now, but instead, there was a weird, soft, repeating pattering and slithering noise, and _all_  the kittens, tripping and stumbling, came towards them in a sea of tiny limbs, tentacles, and ginger fur. Monica tried to count them as they swarmed, but there were too many. Sniffing at Mom and Uncle Nick, wriggling down the stairs, going into Mom's room, and Monica's, pawing at Goose... all of them letting out constant little 'Mews' as they explored this new place. Mom tried to pick up a few of them, but for each one she caught, dozens more escaped. Uncle Nick seemed kind of... happy, as he'd knelt and was petting any kittens that came within reach, cooing and baby-talking at them. Goose merely sat, now washing a paw, apparently not worried at all about the kittens taking a look around. _Maybe they're tougher than Earth kittens, so they can look after themselves faster_. Monica mused. The one she'd found earlier must have been the first to venture out, the bravest. Maybe that one was the oldest, the first to hatch? She looked round for it, but it was indistinguishable from its brothers and sisters. Peering through the banister, (which now had about ten kittens clinging to it, by tails, paws, and baby-tentacles) she could see more kittens heading down the hall that led to the kitchen. Crashes, thuds and indignant 'Mews!' followed in their wake.

Uncle Nick stood up. “Well, at least I can get the SHIELD Hazmat guys to clean that guest room of yours out now.”

Monica nodded- the sooner that stinky goop, and the egg... shells? Sacs?... were gone, the better. She got to her feet. “I'm gonna go make sure the kittens don't hurt themselves. Goose, you want to come help? I can't look after all of them on my own.”

“Mmph.” Goose got up, twined herself round Monica's ankles, then nudged and headbutted her legs, urging her down the stairs.

Another ear-splitting crash sounded, and Monica ran to the kitchen, to pick up whatever just got broke- and to make sure Mom didn't get mad at Goose's babies. They were only playing!

She stopped, wide-eyed, when she actually _saw_  the kitchen- or kitten-den, she thought randomly, almost laughing, even though she was horrified. Tentacles were prying open the fridge and all the cupboards, kittens were climbing onto the stove, the dishwasher, the counter-tops, the breakfast bar, some were climbing the walls, and a few had- somehow- gotten on top of the fridge, or even onto the ceiling, hanging upside down. Any and all plates, glasses and cutlery left over from breakfast now decorated the floor, most of the breakables in pieces, and every so often, a tentacle would snatch up and eat whatever it found.

“And I thought a toddler was the worst mess-maker a house could have.” Mom came up behind Monica, and stared at the state of the kitchen. She leaned her head against the wall, closing her eyes. “Look after the alien cat, Nick said. It'll be _fun_ , he said.”

“Maybe they just need to be house-trained?” Monica offered. “It's cos they're babies. They'll learn as they get bigger.”

Mom put a hand on Monica's shoulder, turning her to face her. “Monica, baby, look around.”

Monica did, trying not to gulp. She had a feeling she knew what Mom was going to say. “Mom, can't we-”

“Monica, these are _aliens_. And Uncle Nick and I counted em last night. There's 117 of them. Too many. I know they look like cute kittens, but they're not. They're gonna wreck the house if they stay.”

Monica sniffed, a lump in her throat. “But-”

“No. I'm sorry, hon, but I'm calling Auntie Carol. She'll have to come pick them up, find them a home out there someplace where they know how to look after them.”

Monica's lip wobbled. “But they're too little to be away from Goose! What if they die without their mom?”

Mom took a deep breath. “Sweetie... Goose will have to go too.”

Tears blurred Monica's eyes. “That's not fair! I can take care of them! They're just babies and I want to keep them here!” She pushed past Mom and ran back to her room, slamming the door, before collapsing on her bed, crying. _All_  the kittens, and Goose, being sent away, just because they'd made a (big) mess. She couldn't even keep _one_  of them? It was so unfair!

 


	5. Chapter 5

Monica sat cross-legged in front of the TV. She had been sitting on the sofa, but then nearly all the kittens had wandered in and made themselves comfy. So Monica had taken her bag of chips and left them to it. She wanted them to be as happy as possible before they had to go live somewhere totally different. She turned up the volume to drown out the constant 'Mews', and shoved a handful of chips into her mouth. A tiny paw tapped on her leg and she looked down. A kitten was gazing at the chip bag with big, hopeful eyes. She shook her head. “Nope, sorry. These are mine. Besides, they're human food. You can't have them.”

“Mew.” The kitten's whiskers drooped, but it stalked away. Only to come back a few minutes later with a piece of a jigsaw in its mouth, depositing it in Monica's lap, then standing on its rear legs to nudge the chip bag.

She shook her head, holding the bag out of its reach. “No.” Maybe it thought a jigsaw piece was food or something, and wanted to swap?

Another wet nose brushed her arm, and she turned to see another one of the kittens, this one with a spoon in its mouth. Again, the spoon was dropped in front of Monica, and the chip bag was sniffed at. Monica gently shoved both kittens away. “No! If you guys want food, go see if there's anything in your food bowls.” OK, food _bowls_  was a bit of a stretch, as Mom had had to use almost all their remaining plates, and bowls, and borrow some of their neighbor Tom's dishes, and put one heap of cat food in the washing-up bowl, for the kittens without dishes to share, but still, they had their own food! They didn't need to steal Monica's.

More padding footsteps sounded, with more 'Mews', and Monica's heart sank. Soon she was surrounded by kittens, all offering her things; an empty soda can, a fridge magnet, a hair tie, an ornament of a cat, a shoe, buttons that they'd somehow found, and assorted pieces of Mom's jewelry, all of them purring, rubbing against her, eyeing her bag of chips. Within minutes, they were using her as a climbing frame, and even getting up to walk away was impossible without risking hurting them if they fell. Struggling to keep hold of her chips, she stretched, and just got hold of the TV remote, changing the channel, hoping that maybe she could distract them. Seeing a documentary about lions, she left it playing, and the roars and growls coming from the show made the kittens turn and look. When the pride of lions was on the screen, nearly all the kittens scrambled closer to have a look, some of them letting out baby versions of Goose's roar as they pawed at the screen, trying to 'talk' to these other cats. Monica giggled, watching them keep trying to find the lions. Some of them were walking round behind the TV to find them. She couldn't figure out if that made them smart, or dumb.

Only one kitten had stayed on the sofa, and now climbed down to sit on Monica, climbing onto her shoulder and clinging there. She sighed. “Not you too, I'm not giving you my food.”

It licked her ear, then purred. Craning her neck and squinting, she noticed that this little one, unlike all the others, wasn't totally ginger in color. It had a black patch over one eye, dark ears, a dark stripe or blob on its back, black legs and a black tail. How weird, she hadn't noticed this little guy before. Every single one of the others had solid ginger fur, like Goose. Monica lifted it from her shoulder into her hands to get a better look. “You're gorgeous!” She bit her lip, and giggled, looking at its 'eye patch'. “I'm gonna call you Fury, after Uncle Nick!”

“Monica?” Mom called out from the kitchen. “Are you bugging the kittens again?”

“No!” She quickly went to put Kitten Fury down, but he jumped back onto her shoulder, then burrowed against her neck, hiding in her hair.

Mom eyed her from the doorway. “I told you, I don't want you in the room if these thin- those kittens are in here. Not without an adult.”

“But-”

“No buts. Go upstairs. Play on that ridiculously overpriced box you _begged_  me to get you for your birthday.”

“But-”

“Upstairs. Now. Auntie Carol will be here in a couple hours. Uncle Nick will meet her, explain and bring her here. I'll call you when she shows up, and _then_  you can go see the fler- kittens, if you want. Go on.”

Sighing, Monica flounced upstairs to play on her Super Nintendo. Fury the kitten stayed very still and quiet, like he knew he wasn't meant to be there. Well. At least she could play with _him_. She held back a laugh as she realized that, like Uncle Nick, Kitten Fury was being a spy, sneaking around.

In her room, she settled down to play Super Mario Bros on her Nintendo, leaving Kitten Fury to hop down and explore on his own. The catchy music and bright colors of the game seemed to intrigue him. As Monica played, losing herself in the game, Kitten Fury stalked closer and closer to the screen, watching Mario and Luigi jumping around. His tail swished, and his little tentacles popped out, chasing after the cartoon figures, like he was trying to catch them himself. Monica couldn't stop giggling, and eventually stopped actually playing the game, instead having fun making Mario jump around so Kitten Fury would keep chasing him. She was nearly doubled over laughing, tears streaming down her face, when the doorbell rang, and Uncle Nick and Auntie Carol's voices echoed as they talked to Mom.

Monica's shoulders slumped immediately, and she switched the game off, cuddling Kitten Fury instead. Normally, she would be thrilled to see Auntie Carol, and Uncle Nick was always nice, but knowing they'd come here to take the kittens away... Her lip wobbled. Maybe she could convince Auntie Carol to let them stay? They weren't _really_  that bad to have around, after all.

Kitten Fury purred, snuggled up to her chest, and she tried not to cry. “I don't want you to be sent away,” She whispered, before sniffling, and heading downstairs, still carrying him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the kitten Monica befriends in this chapter: https://www.pinterest.co.uk/pin/626211523157481091/?lp=true


	6. Chapter 6

Auntie Carol and Uncle Nick were staring at the mass of kittens that had taken over the living room, their eyes wide. Mom shook her head. “Like I said, there are loads of them.”

Goose was winding round Auntie Carol's legs, purring. She crouched to pet her. “Wow, Goose, you've really been busy, haven't you?”

“Mrow.” Goose looked smug at the praise.

Auntie Carol picked Goose up, her eyes still scanning the front room. Monica followed her gaze, taking in the kittens on the sofa, surrounding the TV, clinging to the curtains, hanging from... the lampshade on the ceiling? How had they gotten up there?

“How many are there altogether?” Auntie Carol was frowning. “I've gotta figure out how I'm going to feed them all on the journey.”

Mom sighed. “I'm not sure. I know there's over 100 of them, but they all look the same, and they move round so much, it's hard to keep track. I _think_  there's around 117.”

Auntie Carol's jaw dropped. “117...” She lifted Goose to her eye level, looking carefully at her. “How'd you fit all those eggs inside, huh?”

Uncle Nick laughed. “Believe me, Carol, you'll drive yourself nuts trying to figure out the hows and whys of how Goose can do anything. I'm still trying to figure out what she did with one of my co-worker's desks.”

“Desk?” Monica piped up, confused. She could see Goose _damaging_  a desk somehow, but Uncle Nick made it sound like Goose had stolen it, or something...

All three grown ups turned round, like they hadn't known she was there. Auntie Carol broke into a grin, and held her arms out. “Hey, Lieutenant Trouble!”

Monica went for the hug- she'd missed Auntie Carol- but she was careful not to squash Kitten Fury, who she was still holding.

Auntie Carol stepped back, ruffling her hair. “What's your mom been feeding, you, huh? You're getting so tall!”

Monica nodded, standing on her tip-toes, to look even taller. “Uh-huh. I'm gonna be as tall as you soon!”

“You sure will.” Uncle Nick agreed. “Hey, who's that you're holding?”

“Mew!” Kitten Fury piped up, like he didn't want to be forgotten.

Mom narrowed her eyes. “Monica, what did I say about leaving the kittens alone?”

“I did! Mostly. He... was already in my room when I got up there, and you told me to stay upstairs til Auntie Carol got here.” Monica decided a little fib, not saying that she'd _taken_  Kitten Fury upstairs with her, wouldn't hurt- much.

Mom sighed. “Well, put him back with his brothers and sisters, will you? Auntie Carol can't stay long this time, and these guys are gonna take a long time to get to their new home.”

Monica pouted, wanting to yell and cry in protest- they couldn't all leave so soon! She made no move to put Kitten Fury down.

Uncle Nick knelt in front of her. “Made friends with this little guy, huh, Trouble?” He looked at the kitten. “Cute, isn't he?”

“Uh-huh. I named him Fury, after you, cos he's got an eyepatch too, see?” Monica turned so Uncle Nick could see Kitten Fury's black 'eye-patch'.

“Monica!” Mom chided, pinching the bridge of her nose. Auntie Carol, however, burst out laughing, followed by Uncle Nick.

“That's perfect!” Auntie Carol managed to say, when she finally stopped laughing. “So have you named any of the others?”

“No. They all look the same, so it'd be too hard to tell them apart.” Monica turned pleading eyes to Auntie Carol. “Please, do you have to take them _all_  away? Can't we just keep one?”

Mom folded her arms. “Monica, we talked about this.”

“ _You_  talked about it.” Monica muttered, turning her face away. She heard Mom sigh, then Auntie Carol put a hand on her shoulder.

“Look, Lieutenant Trouble, I know you've done a great job taking care of the kittens-”

“Mrow.” Goose, still in Auntie Carol's arms, nuzzled Monica, and Kitten Fury, like she was agreeing.

“But these kittens really need to be taken care of by people who are trained to look after exotic pets like flerken.”

Monica blinked. “Flerken?”

“That's the real name of Goose's species.” Mom put in quickly. “But you can just call them kittens, it's fine.”

“Monica, you ever seen those documentaries on TV, about rare animals that need to be looked after in zoos, not people's homes?” Uncle Nick asked.

“Yeah.”

“Well, that's the care Goose's babies need. They wouldn't do well in a normal house, especially not on Earth.”

Monica sniffed. That did make sense, but.... “Goose is OK with you though.”

“Goose isn't a baby, though. She can look after herself. These little ones can't. I think you're old enough to want what's best for them, aren't you? You wouldn't be selfish and keep them here, just because you want to, right?” Uncle Nick was watching her, waiting for her reply.

Monica struggled to think of an argument, but couldn't. If the baby fler-kittens stayed here, and got sick, or didn't grow up properly, because she didn't want them going to somewhere where they could be looked after properly, then if any of them suffered, it'd be her fault. Her lip wobbled, and she blinked back tears. She dropped a little kiss on Kitten Fury's head, then bent and put him down. He let out a few whimpers, rubbing round her feet, then walked into the living room with the others.

Stifling a sob, Monica turned and ran upstairs. “I don't wanna watch them go. I'll come back when they're gone!” She fled into her room, closing the door behind her, so she could lie down and cry.

She tried not to listen, but couldn't help but hear the adults talking, then the rapid conversation, with voices rising, as they tried to move all the kittens onto Auntie Carol's ship. Eventually, the chaos died down- the kittens had to have all been moved.

Sniffing and wiping her eyes, Monica sat up. She should probably go and say bye to Auntie Carol- who knew how long it would be before she visited again? And the kittens were already out of sight, so maybe it wouldn't be so upsetting, if she didn't see them again?

She slowly went down the stairs. Out the corner of her eye, she thought she saw a flash of fur near her bedroom door, but figured she'd imagined it- there was nothing there.

Auntie Carol and Mom were sitting at the kitchen table, talking. Monica went over and slid onto Mom's lap. “Sorry I got upset. I just really liked them.”

Mom hugged her. “I know, hon, but baby flerken aren't pets. Not for us humans anyway.”

“Why don't you ask your mom to get you a real cat?” Auntie Carol suggested. “That wouldn't be nearly as much work.”

“Maybe.” Monica shrugged listlessly. A cat _would_  be cool, but not the same as an alien pet flerken.

The front door opened, and closed, and Uncle Nick came in. Monica wondered what he'd been doing outside, and would have asked, but he answered that on his own, before she got a chance.

“All the kittens are settled and safe. No way they're getting out of the ship until they get to their new home.”

“Good.” Auntie Carol nodded. “And, just how many photos of them did you take for yourself?”

Uncle Nick looked very stern. “That is classified information.”

Monica looked up hopefully. “Photos? Can I have one for my room?”

“Of course, Trouble. I'll have a set of prints made just for you.”

“Thanks!” Monica smiled. It wouldn't be the same as having the fler-kittens here, but at least she could remember them better with photos.

Uncle Nick looked round. “Anyone seen Goose?”

“Meow.” It seemed like an answer, as Goose strolled down the stairs, tail waving. Uncle Nick picked her up.

“Well, Goose, this is it. So what do you wanna do? You gonna go with your kittens to take care of them, or you gonna come back to Washington with me? Huh?”

Goose meowed, then batted Uncle Nick's shoulder with her paw.

“With me? Really?” Uncle Nick looked surprised. “I figured you'd wanna stay with your babies...”

“Mrow.”

“Actually, from what I found out, this is kinda normal for flerken. They typically lay their eggs, wait til they hatch, then, as soon as the babies can walk and eat, the mother moves on. Flerken gain survival skills very quickly after birth. They're not like Earth cats, with the mothers nursing their offspring for weeks.”

“Mrow!” Goose looked appalled at the very idea. The grown ups began a discussion about other alien species, and how they differed from humans. It became a boring discussion about culture and laws, and Monica, bored, tuned it out.

Eventually (far too soon) Auntie Carol had to go. She parted with hugs, and a promise to call and update them on how the flerkittens were doing. Monica stood with Mom, watching Auntie Carol's ship cloak itself before taking off. Even though they couldn't see anything as she left, they both felt the displacement of searing air as the ship made its way into the sky.

Uncle Nick left not long after that, after he made Mom sign yet _another_  NDA, which kind of bugged Monica- didn't he know by now that they wouldn't tell anyone about Auntie Carol, or aliens, or anything like that? When that was done, he strapped Goose into a cat basket in the backseat of his car- which she promptly squeezed out of, and sat on the passenger seat in the front. Uncle Nick threw his hands up as Mom and Monica laughed. With a reminder that they could call if they needed anything, he too was gone.

Mom went inside to start on a late lunch for them, and, suddenly struck with how _boring_  the rest of Thanksgiving Break would feel after this, Monica headed back to her room, figuring she'd play some more Mario Bros, and grinning as she remembered Kitten Fury 'playing' it with her earlier. She hoped he'd be happy in his new home, wherever it was... that he and all the flerkittens would be happy.

“Mew.”

Monica stared, sure she'd imagined the noise- she was thinking about the flerkittens, and so she thought she'd heard one.

“Mew!”

Now she turned round, and her eyes widened. There, curled up on her pillow, was Kitten Fury!

“What... how... how did you get here?” Monica gasped. Thinking back, she remembered that she thought she'd seen Goose go in her room, and she had come downstairs when Uncle Nick called her, but she'd put Kitten Fury with the other flerkittens before that, so how had... She then saw one of the cat food bowls, and a bag of cat food that Mom had planned to throw out, at the foot of her bed. Had _Goose_  put them there? Did she want Monica to keep Kitten Fury? She took a few steps forward, half afraid she was imagining this.

Kitten Fury stood up, stretched, then leaped into her arms, purring up a storm. A grin spread on Monica's face, ear to ear.

“You want to stay?”

“Mew.”

Monica bit her lip. What was Mom going to say? “OK, but you have to promise to be good. You can only eat cat food, and you mustn't use your tentacles to destroy anything, OK?”

“Mew.” It looked like Kitten Fury nodded. “Mew.”

“You'll be good?”

“Mew. Mew mew mew.”

Monica took a deep breath. “OK.” _Better to get this over with_. Still holding Kitten Fury, she headed downstairs, hoping Mom was in a good mood. But, what could she really do now? Auntie Carol had gone to find the other flerkittens a new home, and looking after _one_  wasn't anywhere near as bad as having 117 to take care of, right?

“Mom?” Monica smiled, looking as innocent and big eyed as she could. “Look who I found upstairs. Goose must have left him in my room!”

Mom turned round, and her jaw dropped.

Monica kept talking before Mom could speak. “I found a food bowl and a bag of food up in my room too. I don't know how they got there, but Goose was upstairs before she left, so she must have put them there. She wants us to look after Kitten Fury! Mom, there's only one of him and he'll behave, I'll teach him, I promise. Please please _please_  can we just keep him?”

Mom's eyes darted one way, then the other, as if she was looking for an escape. Eventually, she sighed. “ _Fine_. You can keep it.”

“YES! Yes yes yes!” Monica threw her free arm round Mom. “Thank you thank you thank you!” She lifted Kitten Fury up so she could talk to him. “Hear that? You can stay with us forever!”

“Meeeew!” Kitten Fury twisted, trying to nuzzle Mom, like he was saying thanks.

“Yeah, yeah.” Mom petted his head. “You gotta behave, though. I don't want any of my furniture wrecked, or disappearing. Got it?”

“Mew.”

“Don't worry, Mom. I'll teach him how to behave like a real cat.” Snuggling Kitten Fury to her chest, Monica sat at the kitchen table, beginning a long list of 'Dos' and 'Don't's'. “You're allowed to sleep in my room, and you can go outside if you want, but you mustn't get lost. And you can't use your tentacles to scare or hurt any other animals- or people. You're only allowed to eat food that we give you, and we'll get you toys so you don't need to play with stuff we need, like saucepans. You can't show your tentacles to anyone but me, Mom, or Uncle Nick. You mustn't roar at anybody either. Cats on Earth can only meow or purr, so you have to pretend that's all you can do too...”

Mom smiled fondly as Monica kept instructing Kitten Fury on what he was and wasn't allowed to do.

“This'll work out perfectly, as long as he does what he's told.” She muttered.

Monica didn't take any notice. Of course Kitten Fury would behave! He'd been left here to be part of their family, he wouldn't do anything to get sent away. He was going to be the best pet pretend-cat ever!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all, folks! Hope you enjoyed this little story. :)


End file.
